


She Who Waltzed In

by Evalein



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 17:53:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evalein/pseuds/Evalein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sherlock observes Joan while she sleeps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Who Waltzed In

Sherlock had never met someone quite like Joan Watson. To be honest, he had, at first, thought her to be a mundane person, a run of the mill New Yorker. That, as it turned out, was wrong - _he_ was wrong, and the fact that she had proven his first impression of her false only piqued his interest in her.

Before long, he found himself wanting to know this woman who had suddenly come waltzing into his life.

He was never one for small talk though. Never knew what to say. No, that wasn't it. On the contrary, he had a lot of things to talk about – most of which revolved around cases, others he wasn't so keen on disclosing. Not at the moment, anyway.

While it was helpful to have her insight on cases, hearing her way of thinking didn't help him assess her nature. Words could only reveal so much about a person. It came to a point where trying to solve Watson became just as, if not more, enjoyable than solving a crime.

###

As the days went on and more cases were thrown their way, Sherlock never came anywhere closer to figuring out Watson. He had picked up the basic facts but that was all there was. Facts. Height. Weight. Hair. Eyes. Things that anyone would know upon first seeing her.

Things he wasn't the least bit interested in.

He wanted to know the miniscule details. He wanted to know what made her tick, smile, laugh, cry.

He wanted to know everything that made up Joan Watson.

“Sherlock?”

He read the last paragraph of the report before looking up from the sheet. His eyes fell upon Joan who had in both hands a cup whose contents were, judging the aroma that drifted in the air, coffee.

“Ah yes. Thank you, Watson,” he said, reaching for a cup.

A smile made its way on her lips as she handed it to him and then she was gone. He took a sip before returning to the case at hand; the image of her smile lingering in his mind as he continued reading.

###

Minutes had turned into hours, Monday night had turned into Tuesday afternoon. Sherlock had spent all that time working with no breaks in between. He had gotten used to the lack of sleeping and eating. Such things only got in the way, really. His partner, on the other hand, wasn't quite used to the consultant's regime yet and had fallen asleep on the couch.

It was there where he stood with his hand hovering over her sleeping body, contemplating whether or not to wake her. He had made a break in the case and although he wanted to get started right away, he also wanted to take the time to closely observe her.

He opted for the latter.

To say Watson was beautiful would be an understatement. The way her hair framed her face and the smoothness of her skin was reminiscent of paintings that only the most skilled of artists could capture. With that said, Sherlock wasn't so sure that even Rembrandt himself could perfectly capture Watson's essence.

He watched as her chest rose and fell with every breath she took. The sunlight landed on her face at just the right angle to show off the contours of her face and the freckles the spotted her cheeks and nose.

Even in this state of slumber where she was most vulnerable, she still exuded the confidence and power that she had when she was awake.

She was amazing.

A stray lock of hair had fallen out of place, obstructing his view. His hands lingered in the air, inches from her face. It got ever so closer until, upon realizing what that would mean, he quickly withdrew it.

The blanket was pulled up instead and with one last glance at his partner, Sherlock left the resting Joan and went to make tea for his tired self.


End file.
